


It's In The Love.

by SS98



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Dark Harry, He's got a secret, Innocent Louis, M/M, Mechanic Harry, Punk Harry, Scary Harry, Shy Louis, Student Harry, Student Louis, Top Harry, cute moments, highschool, manbun, supposedly I dunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SS98/pseuds/SS98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Harry is sorta punk and never stops staring at Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**_[A/N: I was so tempted to turn this into a full-blown fic when the idea came to me but I've got nooooo time to dedicate myself to it so this is all I can give you guys. This is Punk Harry with a little twist (you know I despise cliches - see if you can guess it before it's announced) and pretty much regular Louis. Enjoy and please give me your thoughts along the way. - S xx]_ **

_Let me love you, if not for the rest of your life then for the rest of mine._

***NARRATOR'S POV***

"Dad, why is my car yellow?" Louis stops eating his cereal and allows it more time to become soggy as he marches outside behind his old man. 

His father chuckled and dropped the Honda Civic's keys into Louis' open palm. "You love yellow."

"I hate yellow." Louis narrows his eyes at the banana shaded tint of the vehicle he'll be driving to and from school henceforth.

"That's not what your mother told me."

No longer being a by-stander in this petty argument, Johannah laughs and deflects Louis' pouted lips with a dismissive wave. "Honey, your dad will fix it."

"I will." Mark coughs into his fist and puts his hands on his hips, standing on their perfectly trimmed lawn in sandals. "After school bring it by that new garage I told you Franky owns. He'll do a paint job on it in no time."

"Okay." Louis scooped up the last stubborn fruit loops and handed his mom the bowl, exchanging it for his school bag. "Bye, Mom."

"Bye, love. Have fun at your new school!" She shouted after him as he closed the door to his car.

Louis drove down his street with perfectly manicured lawns and hedges after hooting at his parents. Being the only child to a relaxed family he was bound to be spoiled. The best part is that he never managed to take any of that to heart, never once allowing it to shape him up to be a brat for the rest of his life.

His father was as married to the stock exchange market as he was to his wife, and that brought in enough money to move them across country. Louis gets a new school in his final year and an opportunity to avoid friendship at any cost.

Despite the threat of a new environment, Louis wasn't the least bit afraid of what he might end up as by the end of the day. This school is promised to be one of the finest institutes that still maintained a regular influence of the American system whilst being in Britain. Odd, he guesses. 

Lockers and proms. Drama and getting lost in the halls. He looks forward to them all equally.

The parking lot to his school is expansive and right out in the open in front of the school's entrance. Many cars were already here and it became a hunt for Louis to find a decent spot close enough to the entrance staircase. He eventually found one after the circling the centre row once, and pulled in right across from a Bentley. 

A Bentley? Who on Earth drives a Bentley to school? 

Louis gets out of his car and is glad to hear no snickers or comments about the pastel yellow colour of his car. People mind their own business here and that is beautiful. Hauling his bag out with him, Louis tries not to cause a fracture on the BMW next to him as he slides out into free space.

The cobblestone driveway doesn't feel so great on his shoes and he wonders how the many girls in heels manage to not fall over. People are buzzing all around him, loud laughter and one voice above all the others speaking to their cliques. 

He glances at his watch and sees that he has a little over thirty minutes to get his stuff and go to his first class. Scanning the parking lot to establish a division or understanding of what the student body functions as, he meets the eyes of someone with a discerning shade of green.

How he can tell the colour of their eyes from this distance is a wonder but this person is the owner of that notorious Bentley. He's got hair that goes a little past his shoulders, made up of greasy but lovely chocolate brown curls. Marble-like features on a jaw that goes on for miles, strong and moulded beneath his pale skin.

He's undoubtedly the most beautiful person Louis' ever laid eyes on. Whoever he is, he makes Louis' spine tingle. The stranger is alone, just like him, with a cigarette pinched between his lips as he observed everyone else. He turns to see Louis staring at him and those green eyes turn dark. 

Louis tries to save himself by smiling very small, very uncharacteristically insecure and kicks a few pebbles afterwards. Without glancing back up to see if the new person made any social developments, he takes off the direction of the school's administration building.

In spite of his fluid and graceful escape, Louis felt two holes burning in his back from the Bentley owner was staring at his retreating figure. Whether it was from intrigue or mere surprise, Louis tried to avoid looking back. He ponders the possible reasons for why that person is alone when he looks the type to lead a cult of teenagers. 

"Hi." He instead greets the receptionist, ready to push aside thoughts of this teenager and take on the day.

His locker is close to the back exit which he dearly appreciates. The back exit is abandoned and leads to the library where he plans to spend his lunch hour.

Finding his first class of English Literature - he'll never forgive the timetable for this - is simple enough. He gets there before most and finds a seat by the window, opening it so the air supply whipping around him will keep him alive during the lesson. Other people start to file in with their friends and random peers, the seat next to him remaining barren but people pass him dodgy looks from the start.

Feeling uncomfortable under their scrutiny like he had done something wrong, he squirms in his seat just as the final student saunters in. There isn't exactly a dramatic silence to accompany the entry of the finely chiselled individual Louis saw in the parking lot, but everyone does turn their heads in his direction for a fraction of a second.

Louis bites his lip and starts to tear the edges of his notebook when he _feels_ that one particular pair of eyes on him again. He doesn't look up no matter how much he wants to, doodling objects on a page as the empty seat beside him is finally taken up.

Those eyes don't lift from the side of his face but no voice is heard either so Louis just concentrates on the lesson. He knows by the end of it that the weird male has not once stopped staring at him, making him fidget and shift a lot during the hour. 

Why he's so affected by this perfect stranger is beyond him. By one sideward glance he can make out a multitude of tattoos starting at his wrists and never relent until his neck. That alone makes Louis a tad curious as to why he'd need to many tattoos. Instead of asking and having to face him, Louis fingers the hem of his sweater and jumps up to leave when the bell goes.

He feels like he's breathing for the first time when he leaves the classroom, finally distancing himself from the boy who crippled his lungs. Not feeling safe from his pursuer yet, Louis jogged through the swarming bodies to his next class.

His salvation came in the form of an overzealous blond lad who plonked himself down in the seat in front of Louis' for their AP Mathematics class.

"Hey. I'm Niall." The other held out his hand for Louis to shake. 

"O-Oh. Hi." Louis tried to be polite, watching out of the corner of his eye as this new acquaintance's boyfriend took someone out of their seat so he could be next to Niall. "I'm Louis."

"Really? You look like a Darren." Niall completely rotates in his seat, resting his elbows on Louis' table.

"Yeah." Louis giggles. "I'm pretty sure."

Niall flashed him the biggest smile Louis' ever seen in his khaki pants and black Polo shirt. "So do you and Styles know each other?"

Louis frowns as he tries to recall hearing that name before. "Um- Who's Styles?"

Niall's lips turn into a perfectly rounded circle. "The guy you sat next to for English? His name is Harry Styles."

Knowing his name made Louis feel a little smug, as Harry didn't know his name in return. He released his lower lip from the prison of his teeth when the man himself walked in, looking more miffed than earlier. His eyebrows were knitted over the bridge of his nose and his one fist was clenched so tightly around the stack of books he carried.

"Have fun." Niall turned back around so his back was to Louis. "Liam, I need a pencil."

Trying not to laugh at his newest friend - he thinks he'll feel bad for disrespecting Niall - Louis bows his head and crosses his ankles under his desk. _Harry_ automatically seeks out the seat next to Louis and slides into it.

The lesson is no different to the first one except that Louis doesn't shy away from Harry's persistent stare, nor does he return it. He can see Harry chewing gum with his eyes deadset on him, unnerving him no less and making him uncomfortable again.

Another difference to the first lesson is that when the bell rings, Harry watches Louis pack up at an easy pace before standing and slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder. Louis is just about to head for the door when he stops to give Harry his first notice of the day.

"Hi." His fear of making friends - or more than friends - with people disipitates in time for Harry's eyes to widen in evident surprise.

He's gone before anything more can be said, feeling revitalised with his anynomity and ominous greeting. If Harry could be so creepy then Louis can play too, but immediately after leaving the room his steam wears off and he's suddenly deeply concerned that what he did was uncalled for.

What if Harry is an uncouth barbarian? Louis doubts it because the other lad owns a Bentley and carries himself with more pride than visibly distinguishable. What if he really is a perverted idiot? What if Louis just caught the eye of a stalker? Anything is possible.

Behind him the man himself arises from the classroom just as he had, last after everyone else. Louis has to briefly look over his shoulder to see him before making a beeline for his next class. Harry watches him go silently, no one noticing his little silent chuckle before turning in the opposite direction. 

"We saw what you did." Niall pounces on Louis the second he enters his Chemistry class.

"What?" Louis plays dumb, riddled with concern over himself. 

He finds a seat which turns out to be the one next to Niall and hops onto the stool. Internally, he groans at the fact that his feet don't touch the ground. 

"You spoke to Styles." Niall specifies, tapping his pencil on the table. "No one speaks to Styles."

Louis gulps. "Why not?"

"A multitude of reasons actually." Niall starts to tick them off on his fingers, oblivious to Louis' racing heart. "He was in juvie last year. Arrested twice this year but his parents paid the chief off. Just yesterday they confiscated a freaking gun from him. And you know what else?"

By now Louis was seeing black spots in his vision. Styles sounded like a nightmare.

"He never once said a word to anyone." Niall continues. "Some people envy him and others fuckin' hate him but either way, he doesn't want any friends."

"What do you mean he never said a word?" Louis finds that hard to believe but also not totally unrealistic for a person like Styles.

All he's seen is black clothing and blacker ink on skin that's porcelain white and nearly lifeless. Harry's a walking wall judging by his muscle structure and set frown that never eases up from his features.

"Literally." Niall waves his hands about. "No one has ever seen him open his mouth let alone talking. Some people think he doesn't have a tongue."

Louis' heart leaps into his throat at that probability. Although that's not something that will repulse him if Harry were to be friendly, now that the latter is being more stalker-ish than friendly it's making his skin crawl. Suddenly, the spellbinding lock of Harry's eyes don't seem so enticing.

He doesn't get to comment back about any of the trauma going on inside his head because the lesson begins. Niall has a short attention-span and often makes Louis' stationery his own, doodling and carving images into his notebook up until the class is over.

"Don't you pay attention?" Louis asks, cringing at how blunt he sounded towards the boy.

"I did." Niall shrugs it off and gathers his things.

Finding it hard to comprehend, Louis raises his eyebrow. "Really?" 

"Yeah. Wanna go to lunch?"

"Um-" Louis shuffles his things around to locate his timetable. "I think my lunch hour is-"

He pauses with a gasp when someone's hand slides across his hip, conveniently where his shirt had ridden up just a little to reveal a tan column of skin. Looking back to see who it was all he gets is the sight of a back that's broad and hunched forward, covered in a black shirt that easily displays the strong shoulderblades of the owner. 

It's a dead giveaway when the person's head raises from being lowered between his shoulders and Louis can see the curly locks of hair that surround his face. Louis hears himself make a confused and slightly troubled whine before backing up nearly all the way into Niall's chest.

"Woah there." The blond steadies him by his shoulders. "What happened?"

"N-Nothing." Louis is still looking downt the path where Harry disappeared, just his head visible above all the others. 

People were moving out of Harry's way without the added finesse of bowing down or trembling in fear. For a moment Louis thinks he saw Harry looking back at him before a group of people exit their class and block him out completely.

"So how about lunch?" Niall didn't see it and he didn't care about it longer than he had to if he was told.

"Yeah. Let's go." 

They find a table together in the cafeteria and Louis thinks his prudent intentions about not making any friends has definitely changed. He enjoys Niall's company when all the lad does is narrate stories about hilarious encounters with his family and friends. 

Halfway through being told about some awful experience with too much egg nog and Niall's boyfriend - who go by the name Liam - who tried to take it away from him, in walks the person who Louis has seen too much of today. He stops munching on an apple to find that Harry is watching him too, just sitting at a single table without any food staring across a dozen more to stare at Louis.

Not know what to do, Louis hurriedly turns back to his apple, picking at the bitten spot with his fingers while his skull turned hotter from the intensity of the stare. Others began to notice and most figured out who Harry was so suddenly interested in, dragging out their meals to see what would happen.

"He's looking at you." Niall informs him, slowly chewing on some potato crisps.

"I know." Louis trains his eyes to remain on the table. 

Harry's stare was unrelenting and starting to make him deeply uncomfortable, travelling much further into his bones than a regular look from anyone. Louis can _feel_ Harry's eyes when they're focused on him, more so than anything else he could possibly sense. It was doing something to him already, like peeling off his skin and soothing it with ice at the same time.

"You wanna go talk to him?" Niall smirks around the first taste of his Greek salad.

"No." Louis snaps at him, glaring unintentionally. "Yes."

Niall teases him with a quirked eyebrow and twisted smile. "Yes?"

"Well yeah." Louis swallows and nods as slowly as he can, trying to find another response anywhere in his confused mind. "I'd like to know what he hopes to accomplish by staring at me all the time."

"I admire your spunk, Tomlinson." Niall nods in affirmation. "Have some of my salad."

"No thanks." Louis laughs and picks up a fork to poke at his own cold pasta salad. 

"So are you going now?" Niall presses. He knows as well as anyone that the entire school is waiting for an interaction between the infamous Styles and his target for the day.

"No." Louis shakes his head, relying on his rational instincts to think this decision through. "It'll have to wear off eventually."

  
* * * * *  


"Dad?" Louis just got his father on the line after dialling his house number thrice. 

"Hey, Louis." Mark clears his throat but still sounds scratchy and hoarse like he fell asleep at his office desk _again._

"Dad, you know you're not supposed to fall asleep while you work. Where's Mom?"

"Grocery store, I believe." Mark yawns loudly enough to cause rustling over the connection. "Don't tell her."

"I won't." Louis sighs, looking up from the pavement to the entrance of the garage. "I'm at Franky's garage right now."

"Oh yeah. I'll give Franky a call right now and tell him what to get done." 

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Don't worry about the bill either. I have to see him tomorrow so I'll take care of it then."

Louis chews his lip and considers this to be reasonable, giving his father the okay before hanging up. He keeps his phone in his hand as he walks inside the garage with the soft patter of his shoes on cold concrete. 

Franky's garage isn't upscale but he's a close family friend and did everything motor-related at great prices. He moved here years before Louis' family did and they felt the loss at their old home. Walking in he can smell a mixture of car oil and rubber parts, the buzz of a useless fan in the corner by the counter where the paperwork was completed.

Despite the four or so people in here, three of which are Franky's employees, just one of them all really grabs the boy's attention. Looking over to where someone just rolled out from under a car where they changed a gage, turned out to be the person Louis best after today. 

Those dark brown curls swept back into a bun and those neverending tattoos running all the way up to his biceps that were visible in his white vest. Harry's chest was no different in how swathed in markings it was. Louis is surprised to see him _employed_ here when he's driving a prize winning vehicle to high school everyday.

He can't bring himself to stop staring, unashamed by how he's attracted to the ripple of Harry's back muscles as he moved and his flexing biceps as he handled items. Harry's not noticed him yet, cleaning the grooves of a spanner with a dirty cloth. 

"Hey, Louis!" Unfortnately for his ogling, Franky still recognises him and calls out almost instantly. "What ya doin' here, boy?"

Louis somehow ends up with a polite smile on his face, fuelled by Harry snapping his head up and finally seeing him. Nothing can be taken from his expression but he did falter in his rhythm of wiping just a bit. 

"Hi, Franky." Louis clears his throat and makes his way over to the counter, not ignorant of Harry's stare set back on him as he moved. "Dad said to come here to get my car sprayed."

Franky took one glance at the vehicle that stood outside in the glaring sun and knew exactly what to do. "It's a shame, that yellow. I can get it painted now. Do it me-self if ya like."

"I'd appreciate it." Louis grinned brightly. "How long will it take?"

"Don't worry." Frankly chewed some more on his matchstick. "I'll get Harry over there to handle it. If it gets too late and your car ain't done, he'll take ya home."

Louis felt a hot flush come over him and turned to watch Harry acknowledge the task he's been given. Harry's eyes hardly sweep over him once before darting outside to the car.

"Keys?" Franky extends his hand and Louis drops the silver bunch into his palm. "You can wait in my office or hop up on the counter. You're family, son. Do whatever ya feel like."

After being left to his own devices once more, Louis tries to hauls himself up onto the counter. He fails twice and ends up pouting his lips when trying a third time there's the present aid of two hands. His reaction is abrupt and nearly lethal with the way his hand flies out to bat away whoever this stranger is grasping his hips.

The only face he sees is Harry's when he raises his head to deliver a verbal reprimanding. He gasps out of shock and retracts his hand, pre-sting as he never got to slap the assailant. Harry spoke no words as he helped Louis onto the counter, unnecessarily flexing his sweating biceps against the boy's soft hips as he did so.

Harry was gone before Louis could reign in his swoon.

This cannot go on, Louis decides twenty minutes into his wait. No matter the tingles on his skin, Harry is an unknown irreputable individual who still dared to touch Louis without permission. For all Louis knew, Harry could be an axe murderer who kept dolls strung to the ceiling for entertainment.

He decides to suss out what Harry's motive is and why he's being so hot yet cold with him. Hopping smoothly off the counter - and trying not think about how he will get back up - Louis makes his way over to Harry's work station with his car.

The man is occupied with hooking up a can to the spraying mechanism, a bandana covering half his face already. Louis steps up next to him and Harry pauses in his twisting of the can to briefly glance at him.

"Hi." Louis rocks back on his heels, suddenly nervous and trying not to sweat through his shirt.

Harry remains silent and maintaining eye contact with him for a few seconds longer, but when Louis doesn't go away he gets out a second handkerchief. He gives it to the other boy without word of instruction and Louis holds it up with two fingers, confused. 

After a beat he realises he ought to do with it what Harry's done and hastily ties it around his head before Harry starts to spray his car over the newspaper he's inserted by the lights and windows. He pouts beneath the material and watches Harry's smooth glides as he strokes the paint onto the cold steel.

"You've done this many times before?" Louis hopelessly tried again, secretly swearing it will be his last attempt. 

This time when Harry spares him a glance it's soft and amused without being condescending. Even with the bandana on Louis thinks this could be his favourite smile on Harry.

"Um-" Louis chews nervously on his lip. "Why were you staring at me today?"

Harry's eyes connect with his and they convey the emotion of confusion like he suspects Louis' the one lying.

"At school." Louis clarifies, following Harry around the bonnet of his precious vehicle.

He doesn't get an answer from Harry, not when he expects it and not when his hope dies down. Harry silently finishes spraying his car and polishes the windows to free them of any marks. Afterwards, he leaves Louis standing by it while it airs out without so much as goodbye.

  
* * * * *  


The next day is when Louis realised he still had Harry's bandana when he should have returned it. On his way to school he found it in the cubby when he was searching for his glasses and took it out as well to return, no matter the nerves ruining his courage.

His first lesson was French and the second AP Maths. Harry sat next to him for both and once more those unsettling eyes were eternally glued to the side of his face. He tried not to give in and look back even when that's all he wanted to do. 

"Lou." Niall spun around in his seat and indiscreetly spared some attention to Harry. "He's looking at you."

Louis couldn't contain his laughter, and it bubbled out of him in a soft melody. "Can you be anymore obvious, Niall?"

Harry had heard their whispered conversation and kept his knowing smirk to himself. Louis looked over his hunched shoulder at him but by then Harry was once again neutral in his expression.

Niall met up with him next for lunch after four hour-long lessons of diverse natures, when they were both starving and splitting the cafeteria bill. He sat across from his friend with a pizza slice and chocolate milk carton, two decisions he wouldn't allow himself to regret. Besides that he could sense Harry across the dining hall with his focus poised to affect Louis.

"It's got to be annoying by now." Niall slices through Louis' quiet reverie where he thought of ways to return a simple piece of cloth.

Louis can only shrug and hope that it's enough. "I don't even notice sometimes."

"Horse poop." Niall steals a sip from Louis' chocolate milk without asking but is easily forgiven because Niall is Niall. "Go talk to him."

"Absolutely not." Louis' eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. "I thought you were afraid of him."

"Eh." Niall shrugs his shoulders lightheartedly and slouches in his seat because he's run out of food. "It gets stale at some point."

  
* * * * *  


"I swear to God you're the shadiest fucking person in this school." Niall comments, minimal harshness because he has an unexplained soft spot for his companion. 

Harry was leaning against the wall with his foot kicked up against it, not minding for the scuff marks he left behind. It being after school hours allowed him the privilege to up his cigarette smoke intake from one to two doses.

"I spoke to him about you today." Niall goes on to say, capturing Harry's sole attention. 

The blond smirks into the distance because he knows when Harry turns to look at him expectantly, wanting more information to spill from his lips. Harry's requested all he could possibly learn about Louis in his unique way on the first day and Niall was his best friend so of course he obliged in the task.

"He's got your head thing and wants to return it but also doesn't want to." Niall laughs, sparing Harry a bemused glance. "He doesn't think I'm as observant as I am."

  
* * * * *  


"Harry?" 

Louis' voice was angelic to hear first thing in Harry's lunch hour, and when the latter looked up he was graced with the boy's presence. He felt the corners of his mouth turn up without instructing them to do so. 

"Um...-" Louis dug something out of the backpack he had pressed to his chest. Harry's eyes fell to its narrow and soft promise with noticeable hunger. "This is yours."

He was being handed back his handkerchief slash bandana from the other afternoon and he suddenly didn't want it back. Harry tilted his head back to meet Louis' eyes with his own blank ones, praying that the boy would take it back so he had a reason to approach him later.

Instead of such mercy, Louis dropped the cloth on the table beside Harry's bottle of water and spun around in a beat. Harry felt an impulse soar through him and he briefly caught the boy's belt loop with two of his fingers, but let them slip free when Louis moved away ignorantly.

  
* * * * *  


Nothing about Harry's staring or persistent need to be near Louis without communication wore off for the rest of the month. 

Each day from the first to the day before the weekend, he would park in the same spot out of being forced to. The days he went early or the days he went late, he always ended up with the exact same space opposite the same jet black Bentley. 

Every class he had from morning to evening that he shared with Harry Styles was spent struggling to concentrate while those same unrelenting, near black eyes stayed on him. He never had the guts to talk to Harry no matter how close they sat to each other in their classrooms. Nobody else called Harry out on his unusual behaviour, not teachers or higher up officials.

Friday evening after Louis' last class for AP Physics came around and he was _exhausted_ with a week of scheduled homework to look forward to. His class was let out and the halls were nearly empty, the late hour setting in and making most things dark around him.

His shoes make tiny squeaking noises on the waxed floors as he went to his locker, reciting the combination number out loud and sighing heavily when he reached it. After successfully opening the noisy steel door, he exchanges his textbooks for the ones he needs and his satchel. 

Before he can walk away from the confrontation Harry's suffered a week of waiting for have, something hard collides with Louis' back and he's knocked forward into the locker door. He hisses and his exclamation of pain is not unheard, his fists slamming into the cold metal.

"What the-" He's cut off when a hand covers his mouth and he's left to scream into it, dread filling his system to the brim. 

No words come as a reply but the solid impact of whoever this is, comes even closer by fitting themself to Louis' back. Louis' body fits so ideally between their shoulders and the boy's struggles are futile against this tall and lean brick wall of a person.

His blood runs cold in every vessel its housed when he identifies the perpetrator. "H-Harry?"

Still no verbal response and Louis thinks about what Niall said about this strange person, shuddering when a large hand comes to hold him over his hip. The thumb of that hand rubs back and forth over Louis' bare skin, forcing him into some cove of security. 

Louis' breaths become panicked and choppy, the air rushing in and out of him as he struggles against Harry to get free. All that comes of it is that Harry uncovers his mouth and lowers his hand to around Louis' neck, circling his jugular and yanking his head back to rest on his shoulder.

"Shh." Harry whispers into his ear, pressing him further into the lockers and his body. "Shh."

When Louis doesn't listen, Harry harshly tugs on his hip and repeats the hissing sound between his teeth. Louis' nails dig into Harry's wrists wherever they are on his body, scraping the thin skin desperately as he tries to free himself. There's too much fear running through him, so much so that it makes his blood thicker and head thump with tension.

He was finally allowed to turn around and it turned out to be the sight that will haunt him forever. Green eyes that reflected the dimming light amongst clouds of black made it so malevolent, so frightening like Harry's eyes alone could tell him so many stories.

Louis was sandwiched between his own locker and Harry's firm torso, his head angled back by a hand around his throat. He was practically panting and trying to get some liberation, failing every time.

"Let me go!" He cried out, bruising himself on the locker handle because of his drastic movements.

Harry stared at him the way he's been doing this whole week, watching silently as Louis got himself to calm down. His head tilted to the side and he studied the faintest things on Louis' features from his freckles on his button nose to his pale and thin fingers. 

He leaned forward against the resisting boy's wishes and took the opportunity to rest his forehead on Louis'. The boy smelt of apples and warm spices like cinnamon. Just like Louis got to see whatever ran wild in Harry, the latter could gauge all the emotions - fear and adrenaline - racing through Louis' mind.

"What are you doing?!" Louis shoved at Harry's chest, but it earned him no more comfort than before.

Harry's only answer was a growl from his chest and to shove Louis back with so much force that the boy's head painfully slams into the locker door. He waits for Louis to get his message before reaching upward without reservations about being too forward, and clasps Louis' cheek to direct his attention.

"Okay fine! I'll stop." Louis yelled, ceasing all abrupt movements that landed him in a tighter squeeze or fearless grip elsewhere on his body. He waited for the engine in his chest crushing his heart to slow down before speaking again. "Why-Why do you stare at me?"

Harry doesn't answer him but blinks down at him with an emotionless, unreadable expression. Louis is mildly intimidated by him and his frightening exterior that's all black ink and dark eyes.

"Do you speak?" Louis asked, quieter. "People don't think you do."

That got him his first reaction. Harry's lip curled away from a snarl to a smirk, revealing sharp canines and perfect molars. Louis thinks this man is exceptionally beautiful and must have fallen from the Heavens to grace this world, no matter the reputation he has here.

Before he can open his mouth again, Harry's hand leaves his neck all except his index finger that creeps down Louis' Adam's Apple. In a flash of time, it's replaced by Harry's teeth and Louis is squirming again. He winces at first when those teeth latch onto his skin and goes onto fist Harry's shirt to push him away when plump lips suck on the surface.

"Harry!" He kicks his feet in the hope that it will do something but Harry is so much stronger than him, finding his wrists and pinning them harshy to the locker.

Hearing his name broken up by the boy's mouth spurs Harry on and he alternates between nibbling and suckling. His saliva remains on Louis' parched skin, his tongue dabbing dampness onto it. When he's close to being done, he smothers everything about Louis by holding him flush against his chest and widening his jaws to sink into the boy's neck.

Louis is paralysed by all the attention to such a sensitive spot on him, letting out involuntary moans because he's been so unaware of the pleasure that could come from his _neck._ Harry takes his submission wisely and groans into the boy's throat, slipping his hands from disabling parts of Louis to hastily pick his legs off the ground.

Unknowingly, Louis starts to pull Harry closer because the hunger for this feeling is driving him to lose control of his actions. He begins to feel the churning in his gut, the unforgiving twist of desire when Harry's lips fish out the softest and sweetest parts of Louis' skin.

He's shivering just as Louis is, reaching up to guide his fingertips across Louis' cheekbones and jaw. Before he goes too far and makes a move that will compromise them both, Harry forces himself away from the boy. Louis' swollen lips are puffy and red, bitten but not by Harry.

"What-" Louis touches his neck, flinching when his fingers touch such raw skin. "Why did you- What's wrong with you?"

Harry's smirk is only reinvented, deepened so Louis gets to see his _dimples_. 

"Why won't you talk to me?!" Louis grows frustrated again, giving himself space by shoving Harry back. 

Remaining silent, Harry let's his hang briefly before stepping back and turning around completely.

Louis is outraged. The pain in his neck is swelling, bruising on his supple flesh. He cannot handle it and the energy it feeds him gets him moving forward, dumping his bag on the ground and chasing after Harry.

"Harry!" He calls out, jogging to catch up before grabbing Harry's forearm with both hands.

All it earns him is a disgruntled shove because Harry was never expecting to be touched. He lands on his behind when Harry's strength pushes him down, releasing a sound that's confused between a whimper and grumble. Harry's boots stop clicking on the tiles when he makes a semi-circle motion to spin around.

His eyes turn into black saucers upon seeing Louis on the floor. Maybe he didn't mean to land the boy on the ground but his precision must have caused it anyway. Louis' not granted a moment to complain when all Harry allows him is a breath before being hauled up into the air by two severely sturdy arms beneath his knees and around his back.

"What are you doing?" Louis seems to be asking this question way too many times. "Put me down, Harry."

Harry doesn't obey. He picks up Louis' bag and makes for the exit, his heavy boots being the root of the only noise surrounding them. The school is barren and they're the last ones to leave at a time when the night sky is nearly visible.

"That's my car." Louis, after having decided to go with this, tells Harry in order to be put down. 

The man carrying him doesn't stop. 

"Harry?" Louis wriggles and tries to free himself once again. 

Harry looks around him before turning towards his own vehicle and opening the back-seat before dumping Louis in it. The boy makes a confused mumble when he's encouraged to be further, while Harry climbs in and shuts the door. He knows he looks a frightened mess with wide eyes and uncertain fingers, hugging his bookbag to his chest. 

"What's happening?" He asks out loud next when the car has been drowned in awful silence for too long. "Why are you after me?"

There's no sound that escapes Harry's lips when he chuckles and shakes his head as it the question amuses him. 

"Will you please say something?" Louis implores, truly troubled by this individual's lack of vocabulary.

Harry looks up at him sternly with a deepset frown. He raises his hands and Louis nearly screams because he fears the worst but Harry completes a small sequence about his head with fluid movements of his hand and Louis finds himself staring dumbly at his companion.

Harry just used sign language. Louis can't get any words out. "I-I...-"

He does it again, except this time saying something else with his hands that Louis doesn't understand. Harry is _mute_.

"Wow." Louis says, more in awe than he meant. 

Louis discards his backpack and moves closer to Harry, fascinated by this mystery of a man. Harry's forcing himself to stay where he is and not shuffle away, letting Louis find out his only significant secret piece by piece.

"Everyone thinks....-" Louis stops himself before he can ruin this moment. "How, Harry?"

Harry clearly does have a tongue as it spent its fair share of a moment gracing Louis' neck with its presence. He answers Louis with a small smile.

"Since birth?" Louis confirms it with Harry's nod. "Then why tell me this? Me of all people?"

Harry shrugs noncomitally. 

"How do you know you can trust me?" Louis asks again, refreshed even after a day of wasting energy.

All Harry does is lean back forward with his intentions spoken loud and clear by his rosy, parted lips. He cups the right side of Louis' face with his hand carefully and brings him in for a kiss that's conflicted and rough but one neither will ever forget.

  
* * * * *  


"Come on over, Lou." Niall waves to him across the cafeteria after they've both gotten food. "We're sitting with my other friend today."

"What?" Louis is confused as he follows Niall through the hoards of pupils trying to find place to sit and food to consume.

He's got his backpack sliding off his shoulder and balancing his food tray to worry about. Louis has never met any of Niall's friends other than Liam and obviously himself and it's been a mighty long time for the chap to ignore whoever this is. He stops all speculation when they come to a halt at _Harry's_ table.

Without question, Louis hides partially behind Niall while the blond greets Harry. He feels a lump in his throat and his palms get sweaty but Niall is casual as always with Harry.

"I brought him over." Niall doesn't even look at Harry when he's talking to him, totally comfortable to wave his hand dismissively and take a seat. "You owe me."

Louis is stockstill and abandoned where he stood, gripping the edges of his foodtray and digging his thumbnails into the worn rubber handles. He looked like a spook animal in captivity, shoulders rigid and mouth screwed tightly shut. His spine released a little unnerving tingle down the curve of it when Harry looked up at him again, taking in the sight of him like he's an artefact.

He doesn't even register Niall's betrayal with how frozen he is, cracking from the inside because everyone in the cafeteria is looking their way. Even the unineterested students are eager for something to entertain them during their dull lunch breaks.

"I-" Louis opens his mouth to suggest that the three serviettes on his tray isn't enough and he _must leave to get more_. However, Harry has other plans for this nervous boy.

Grasping his opportunity with both hands, Harry doesn't release Louis' belt loops this time when he captures them. His hand flattens over Louis' hip and _yanks_ so desperately that his target falls with a breathy noise and squeak.

Harry is more than satisfied to have Louis on his lap now. He smirks with his lips pressed up against the boy's temple and just moves his hand to the opposite hip, effectively roping him in where he should be. Where Harry deserved to have him. 

Louis has won the battle of not allowing his food to spill but is shaking nonetheless with anxiety. He hears Niall's snigger beside him and keeps staring at his lap, eyes blown wide and heart pounding. Harry senses his discomfort and offers him solace by rubbing his side with smooth, gentle strokes.

He didn't say a word - couldn't if he wanted to - in the boy's pink ear but he relaxed him anyway. Louis was turned around with Harry to fully face the table, his back most likely fitted to Harry's tough chest. His tray was allowed space on the table beside Harry's and his hands were taken in by two larger ones, palms massaged and fingers knitted together.

"Shh." It's the only sound Harry could make, and the only medium of conversation he could offer in public. 

Louis had stopped shaking like a leaf and forced himself to relax. After last week with Harry and his giant vehicle, this contact shouldn't be frightening him. He tried not to squirm too much when making himself comfortable on Harry's bony knees, straightening his back against Harry's and incidentally bumping the other male's chin with his forehead.

"Sorry." He heard himself say and when Harry flexed his jaw to test it wasn't broken, began to giggle softly.

Harry stopped all motion to observe that musical sound coming from Louis' mouth. He stared at him unblinkingly for a very long time, eyes darting from Louis' lips to his magical eyes. Even after Louis returns to his meal and he's not looking at Harry beyond shy sideward glances, Harry can't bring himself to give anything except this wonderful boy his attention.

  
* * * * *  


Spring time is always the ideal time to be outside especially on the weekends when your partner knows hideaways a few miles out of town.

Louis agreed to have Harry take him to one of said hideouts where they'd be alone for a good few hours. Rather than enjoying the lake with crystal clear water rippling in the wind or the tyre swing dangling from a sturdy tree post, they were taking advantage of the bonnet of Harry's ancient Ford.

Harry was tall and lean enough to lie back against the windshield with his arms behind his head, sunglasses stolen by the boy perched on his lap. He was chewing gum and staring at the clouds moving in the sky, admiring nature here where the trees crowded them in and kept them whole. Louis was leaning back and had Harry's Ray Bans pushed onto his head, looking mighty adorable in khaki shorts and a tank top. 

"It's beautiful here." Louis closed his eyes for a moment and Harry almost lost the air in his lungs to how untainted this boy is. "How did you ever find it?"

Harry hated using sign language to communicate before Louis sprung up in his life but since then it's become a gift. Not to mention Louis took a week and then some to master the art himself so he understood everything. He still only used it when they were alone but he's so sure he'd have shot something if he couldn't converse with this boy.

He informed Louis with the non-verbal means that he came across it three years ago. Louis nods and sets his cheek down on Harry's chest where his shirt was unbuttoned. Unknowingly, contact such as this did many good things for the demons they both carried. 

Unable to resist the temptation, Harry cautiously moved his hands from the shatterproof glass to lace his fingers together over Louis' hip. He can safely shut his eyes when Louis deflates into him, fitting their bodies together like puzzle pieces.

The disaster came later when Harry was chasing Louis around their silent haven to get him in the water with his good self. Louis was fluidly and gracefully dodging his every opportunity to catch him. At opposite ends of the rustic car and when he's laughing, escaping to the first branch on an oak tree.

Harry caught him by his ankles and yanked, pulling Louis down and to him. Under that oak tree is where Louis officially became Harry's boyfriend. Harry winked when Louis stuck his tongue out in his direction, silencing all batter by leaping off a shallow cliff and into the freezing cold water below.

  
* * * * *  


"You two are sickening." Niall curls his lip at Harry shutting out the world in Louis' neck. 

They were in their school's hallway but it didn't appear to veer Harry off his path of intentions. He'd still found comfort in the juncture of Louis' throat alone while he blew out little puffs of air to spark goosebumps across Louis' skin like he learnt his boy liked over this past month.

Louis was _trying_ to accomplish something while Niall stood there holding books for them both. Harry could be a big baby if he saw fit and right now he was so, after walking up to Louis with an elastic band. Since then, he's been attempting to work around the burly arms encasing him in an unnecessarily protective manner and tie Harry's hair up.

"Aha." Louis finally manages to tame the curls on Harry's head, pulling it all back to the correct height and closing the band around it twice. "All done."

Harry's appreciation is shown by quietly nipping at Louis' racing pulse once more before abiding by school principles and withdrawing from the petite figure he was trying not to violate whilst at the same time secretly mould their bodies into one. He wanted to stand on top of the world and shout out that Louis was his beautiful boy, and no one else can have him. Not now. Not ever

When he greets Louis' gaze again he is glad to note that his _boyfriend_ was still holding his hand even if he's reclaiming the books of his from Niall. He seems to watch Louis giggle in slow motion and appreciate far more, with four light freckles on the boy's cheek becoming more prominant and the evident way his eyes light up like he's a walking star from within.

Harry pointedly and possessively drapes his arm over Louis' shoulders so that he was pulled into his side. As a bonus that was intended but made Harry feel lighter on his feet, Louis slipped his shorter arm around the taller male's waist beneath the clothing layer of his jacket.

Niall was chatting to Louis still until Harry tightened the security of his hold over the boy's hip and drew his attention back. Louis looked up at him with a light and innocent smile, supplemented by the flutter of his eyelashes for whatever reason that nearly made Harry's heart _stop._

"We have the same class now." Louis declared, him and Harry making their way down the hall to the vicinity of their AP Physics classroom. "Do you want to sit next to me?"

Harry's lips curl into a silent chuckle that he clothes in Louis' neck with a brief kiss that's bound to dampen his skin with the moisture of his lips, labelled by himself as an affectionate smooch. Louis deserves some slightly harmless affection above and beyond the relentless nips and hickies he receives daily.

During class Louis learns that Harry's pattern of staring will not expire even now after they've overcome the hurdle of awkward first meetings and then some. Harry's eyes remain plastered to his side profile while Louis tries to get work done with making notes and jotting down requirements. When the bell rings he sags into his seat and juts his bottom lip out at Harry to depict the laziness travelling through him.

"There's not much left of the day." Louis starts as they pack up in a hurry to not miss their next class. 

Harry doesn't go more than raising his eyebrow and having Niall judge them with a fresh canvas from two feet ahead where he walked with Liam. Louis felt insecure without more than his Biology book in the crook of his arm, because Harry was carrying his backpack. Harry made many attempts, spending a lot of effort, to be a gentleman because Louis deserved no less. 

"I've always wanted-"

"Louis Tomlinson." The voice crushing his interaction with Harry is their school counsellor who is nosier than any other human being. 

Mrs. Stewart is working her way around the groups of friends gathered in their hallways, the short heels on her boots clinking on the cold tile. When she's about to stop right in front of them, she adjusts the scarf around her neck. Her pasty skin is frail and clearly indicative of her age, but it truly isn't her physical appearance that bothers Harry enough to assert his presence beside Louis.

"I've excused you from your next class." She explains to Louis, ignoring Harry after giving him a tiny nod of acknowledgment. "Come with me please."

"Is something wrong?" Louis glances at Niall who has also stopped to observe his dilemma. He can't remember ever getting up to nonsense at this school so what is the need for this?

He learns the reason whilst seated in her office still armed with just his Biology textbook on his lap. His legs are crossed uncomfortably on her noisy leather chair for guests, and he folds his hands over his thigh where it's hidden. 

Mrs. Stewart takes a seat across from him, immediately resuming her sickening formal polite exposure that she drops at the door everytime she leaves this office. "This is the first time I'm speaking to you one-on-one, Louis."

"I believe it is." Louis smiles in a heartbeat and picks at the loose threads at the knees of his jeans. "Why am I here, Mam?"

"Yes well-" She neatens a pile of papers and leans forward, dark brown eyes narrowing on him. "-we have the matter of your relationship to discuss."

This astounds Louis. Maybe it wasn't stated in their school's code of conduct but relationships go on at this school regularly. Why is he suddenly being pulled into a counsellor's office for having one? 

Mrs. Stewart observes every twitch in his facial features. "Louis, who are you seeing at the moment?"

He frowns at this question. "I'm sorry Mam, but I don't think that's-"

"Harry Styles has a reputation at this school." She interrupts him when she suspects he'll dodge the answer. "He has a reputation all around town and I can't say it's a good one."

Louis' insecurities build up walls with barbed wire fences as they fester in his ribcage. The worry misleads him to doubt his mental capacity, his emotional bravery or strength.

"How long have you two been together?" Mrs. Stewart antagonises Louis' discomfort to drive her point home.

"A-A while." He meekly responds, not looking up from his hands on his lap.

"Would you say a month?"

"Mam, I-"

Mrs. Stewart waves her hand about her face. "I'm not going to forbid you from seeing him. Harry has made positive changes in the past month, _improvements_ and by watching you two.....interact I'd say the fault is yours."

When Louis' head snaps up in astonishment, Mrs. Stewart is smiling at him a lot warmer and genuinely. "What?"

"I'm saying-" She laughs to herself. "-keep up whatever you're doing."

  
* * * * *  


"Harry?!" Louis whisper-shouts his way through opening his bedroom window after being woken up by a persistent knocking on the glass.

When the window was fully drawn open, Harry swiftly fitted through and landed without a single sound. Louis had to look up at him in this darkness and felt self-conscious about the gigantic T-shirt he wore with no pants to sleep. The weather was hot, sue him.

"What are you doing here?" Louis could see grease marks on Harry's cheek and a bandana still wrapped around his palm, indicating that he just finished work at the garage now.

Harry didn't waste time in earning his greeting kiss. He cupped Louis' cheek and bent down while pulling Louis against him, connecting their lips in a sweet union with no tongue and smiles. Louis made a little sound when it was time to pull away and Harry flashed him a dazzling smirk, well aware of the effect it had.

"Insufferable." Louis rolled his eyes and took Harry's hand, leading him into his own bathroom. "Sit."

Obeying, Harry sat on the lip of the tub while Louis flipped on the light switch. He waited while Louis dampened a cloth with warm water by the basin, eyes shamelessly wondering to all the exposed skin he was being blessed with the sight of. When Louis got to him he reached out and circled his hands around the boy's thighs, smiling crookedly when Louis gasped.

"Nah uh." Louis batted his hands away from him, ignoring the faintly brown and black marks left behind on his pale skin. 

Harry was stubborn, born to disobey when he wanted something greatly enough. He moved Louis' hands carefully to his shoulders before quickly regaining his purchase on the boy's supple flesh, kneading the comforting warmth with both desperate hands.

Louis was tugged forward between Harry's knees and dropped the cloth into the tub when he was pressed to Harry's front. Standing he could have his chest offered up to Harry for an embrace, gasping in short breaths whenever Harry's fingers fanned out and got close enough to his behind. 

He ran his hands through Harry's hair, dropping the hairtie that was in it securing his bun. Fingers scraped Harry's scalp as Harry moaned - a sound he could make - into Louis' torso, marking anywhere he could of the boy with scars and stains of his own. 

"H-Harry, please." Louis wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and smothered his own noises by crashing their lips together. 

Harry's incentive was solidifed when he stood up and bent slightly to pick up his boyfriend by his legs, locking them around his waist. He had to angle his head purposefully to return the kisses Louis was giving to him, rewarding him with by licking into his mouth with a naïve tongue. The hot, pink little muscle lost the war for dominance against Harry's skilled one, mewling when his back collided with a wall.

He granted Harry more access by letting his head hit the wall as well, lips parting from Harry's with a slight stickiness. His hand slips lower to the back of Harry's neck, digging his nails in to hear more of Harry's pleasant groans. It was never a worry that he won't ever hear his boyfriend's voice during sex or anything else, Louis cared for Harry no matter what.

Being pulled out of his thoughts, Louis felt Harry mouthing at his neck whilst getting real close to crushing him. He arches his back and tries to gain space for himself before reeling his boyfriend in to be chest-to-chest with him, their eyes connected over the hair's breath of distance between them.

Louis wanted to break down whenever Harry mouthed things because he wasn't _good with words_ and they never came out formulated properly on his lips. He watched Harry's brows furrow together as he concentrated to get this out even if there'd be no voice to power it.

He tried once and twice then again. His mouth struggled but he finally got it out and Louis watched intently as he did. Rounded lips and a tiny flick of his tongue to witness three little words coming from a mute man.

"Oh-" His blood ran cold everywhere. He also warmed up immediately after and hugged Harry with all his limbs wrapped around him. "I love you too, Harry."

Harry grinned his boyish charmer beam that revealed all his perfect teeth and gave Louis another chaste kiss before hiking his legs up a little higher on his waist. Louis' stomach was fluttering with butterflies and wonder, unable to suppress the broad smile on his face after this confession of his. 

They've been together for less than a year and life has been surprisingly easy on them. They've both not been in a fight over anything and Louis is equally dedicated to Harry as Harry is to him. Their relationship was sought after for drama in their school but they managed to be secretive and obvious at the same time, keeping to themselves at all times.

Over those eight months of smooth sailing they've grown so close as friends and more than that. Definitely more than that. Louis giggles into Harry's ear and the latter feels like he's soaring, both released and anchored by that melodious sound. Harry touches any part of Louis' body and the boy feels high on energy that thrums beneath the first layer of his skin.

They themselves didn't know how it was so _effortless_ for them to slip into a routine together. A top secret routine that Louis' parents had yet to find out about.

The only stage in their relationship that hasn't exceeded expectations is their sex life. It was non-existent as Harry kept pulling away when they neared the promise of love making. Louis would pout or huff out a sigh, leading to Harry kissing some part of him to reassure him. 

"Let's go to bed." Louis won't push this to go any further tonight. 

He still feels exceptionally lightheaded from Harry's mouth on his skin above the clavicle region. How will he survive going all the way if he's buzzing from that alone already?

Harry nods and doesn't put Louis down, walking into the bedroom after flipping the light off with his elbow. Louis covered his laughter with his hand and blocked out his scream when he was dumped onto his bed. He scrambled to quickly guard his modesty with his insufficient shirt while Harry stood at the foot of his bed, chuckling devilishly at his hurry.

Louis rolled his eyes and rolled onto his front, taking his comforter with him so it cocooned him adequately. Harry shook his head in amusement, brushing his hair out of his eyes before stripping off his pants. They were too grimey for Louis' clean sheets. He also unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside, remaining in his thin white vest to crawl onto Louis' bed.

It wasn't difficult locating the curled up form of his boyfriend under all the sheets, prying them away from Louis. Harry lowered himself carefully onto his back and reeled Louis into his side, pressing a kiss to the smaller boy's forehead and gripping his thigh when it lay between both of his.

"Hey Harry?" Louis spoke lowly like the bubble they lived in wouldn't suffice to keep them in private. 

Harry kisses the back of Louis' neck to say he's listening, his thumb taking over right after to rub back and forth into the muscle. 

"How come we never go to yours?" Louis asks quietly, uncertain of whether or not he's passing boundaries. 

Louis has never gone to Harry's home once during their relationship. It bothered him for a short while and it seems that worry has resurfaced. He looks up expectantly for an answer that just doesn't come. Harry holds his lips on Louis' frontal lobe, repetitively mouthing his declaration of love.

"Haz." Louis sighs and fans his fingers out on Harry's chest, drawing himself up on his elbow. He finds the familiar mask over Harry's eyes that hide the truth from the world. "We've been together for eight months now."

Harry rolls his head on Louis' pillow to gaze down at him, soft and mildly alluring the way a demon looks at his angel lover. He knows why Louis wants this and he wants to give it to him but the thought of bringing Louis anymore into his world is crippling.

"It's okay." Louis takes Harry's lack of participation as a rejection to the idea. "I still love you."

Hearing it melts Harry's heart until it coats all of the insides of his chest and he's leaning down close to squash Louis against him. The boy doesn't push him away and giggles into Harry's neck where he's pushed, his waist and hips caught at different relaxing angles. 

Harry places his lips on Louis' and smiles when he mouths it back, those three magical words.

  
* * * * *  


"You look _fine._ Lighten up, Harold." Louis redid Harry's tie for the third time in the front seat of the Ford. 

Harry raised a questioning and skeptical eyebrow at Louis. He wasn't at all panicking the way his tiny boyfriend was but easily went with the flow because it was simply adorable to watch Louis this frantic. Louis' parents were on the other side of that front door a few paces down the driveway and Harry was due to meet them twelve minutes ago. 

Before Louis could break out into a nervous sweat, Harry captured his wrists and gave him a kiss to crush the anxiety. He mouthed his favourite three words against his favourite person's licked lips and stepped out of the roofless car before walking around to open Louis' door.

Louis' parents were welcoming and warm towards Harry without being over the top. After having briefed them on why Harry won't be making exceptional conversation, Louis entrusted his folks with not allowing Harry to feel out of place. Harry was charming as ever throughout dinner with his small smiles and sparkling eyes whenever he was supposed to be amused.

Louis wasn't allowed to help out with the dishes like he offered, and ushered into the lounge with a message for his father who was speaking with Harry. Harry saw him and his attention averted to him alone, extending an arm when Louis' father disappeared into the kitchen to catch Louis' hand.

"Mission accomplished." Louis whispered to him from where he's cuddled under Harry's arm. 

Harry held his hand up and Louis high-fived it, ending in his giggling and Harry's tight embrace over his waist.

  
* * * * *  


It was the last day of the term and with no exams on the horizon, Louis had nothing to fret over when he and Niall walked into the busy cafeteria. It seems like he almost lived his entire life within these walls.

"Apple?" Niall offered his friend as they pass through the paces of gathering food for their break.

"Thanks." He accepts and puts it onto a designated spot on his tissue-lined tray.

A hand settled on his right hip and then another of the same contours, identically long fingers scraping his sweater and crooking through his belt loops. Louis smiled, pink colouring his cheeks as he leaned back instinctively into Harry's body warmth. 

From his waist one arm moved up to weigh down on his shoulders, triumphantly closing him off. Louis found the added presence relaxing and it made him feel safer than any other position or situation, which made him drop his head back on Harry's shoulder to kiss his chin.

Harry was a head above him and dimpling beautifully when he leaned in to kiss Louis, his upper lip meeting the boy's lower in their upside-down position. Louis was pulling away before Harry was ready and so he had to wrap his hand around Louis' throat, securing his head tilted back.

"I swear I'm going to throw stale lettuce at you two." Niall declares softly so that they hear and start to separate amidst their amusement.

"Sorry, Niall." Louis apologises with a blush creeping up onto his face.

Niall's eyes dart between them, not trusting that they won't try to disrupt his lunch hour by holding up the whole line again. They find a table that's been claimed by them from Louis' first day and instead of taking a spot on the bench, Louis lands in Harry's lap.

"Eat." Niall cracks open Louis' food container for him, stealing bits from Liam's pasta salad. "Right now."

Louis laughs and nods obediently, turning to his meal while Harry rubs his back for no good reason. Upon being offered some food, Harry declines and sets his chin on Louis' shoulder.

Harry enjoys watching people look at him like he's a God created to walk this earth, or an antichrist parents should keep their children from. He breathes the steam made by citizens of this town that were plagued by the idealogy that he's mischief and mayhem. But Louis is his _obsession_ and there's nothing he takes more pleasure in than watching his boy smile.

**_[A/N: I suck at punk so this inevitably didn't come out the way I intended. I'm sorry but I still hoped you liked some of it. - S xx]_ **


	2. Chapter 2

Giggling with a wild kind of abandonment came freely only to those who have little worry for that brief moment or their minds were so occupied with joy that they failed to allow self-humiliation. The shrieking after-tone of such bliss was also as rare as the main event, but today Louis seemed to be lacking neither.

He knew that although he kicked sand behind him and tried his hardest to put speed into his pace, there was no real hope for an escape from his pursuer. Imprisonment would not follow being caught by Harry, only further reasons to look at the world as a crystal sphere of magic. Every emotion within such a fantasy was as mystical as the people that shared them. Love, it was the most profound of all.

It was Wednesday and Harry wrote a note asking whether or not Louis would like to explore the quieter side of the beach with him after school. Louis hardly thinks the note was necessary, if only it was an excuse to grope his behind when Harry shoved the torn paper into his back pocket. Regardless, he had agreed and now sought to perch himself on the highest rock in sight so he could marvel at the true majesty of facing the ocean.

“This chasing business is going to get you no rewards, H.” Louis dropped his shoes onto the sand and folded up the cuffs of his jeans as high as they would go.

Hands landed on his bottom and Louis squealed, jumping out of the firm grasp only to be dragged right back. The mute but not unskilled lips of his boyfriend found his neck where a rather bright lovebite had to be hidden this morning with cosmetics. They parted and sharp molars sunk into his sensitive skin, nibbling thereafter to soothe a slight burn.

He looked at the blunt apex of the shadowed boulder before him, and all the miniature rocks lodged into the ground around it like stationary knights. “Help me up?”

Louis gasped under his breath when his back collided with frozen stone and he was left staring up at his hunched lover. Broad muscles under a taut shirt and merciless leather pants on strong thighs, Harry was as beautiful to look at as his heart made him out to be. He risked his traitorous back’s satisfaction by leaning down a bit to rest his forehead against Louis’, his arm slipping into the perfect curve of his boy’s spine.

“Please?” Louis pecked Harry’s expectant lips and beamed innocently when an untamed eyebrow quirked at him.

He laughed against Harry’s mouth when the latter only coaxed him into another, deeper kiss. The light-heartedness melted so that the explicitly pleasant flame that blazed just between them came to life, and Louis moaned when Harry’s tongue dipped into his mouth. There was a little knick at the edge of his boyfriend’s tongue from a frightening incident months ago. Louis tries not to think about it even if he was there and it will haunt his subconscious thoughts forever.

“You can’t distract me forever.” Louis contradicts his words by wrapping both arms around Harry’s wide shoulders, pulling himself up so his legs trapped the other securely.

His height increased when Harry aided his lift, doing a great many things to maintain their kiss even when breathing became a chore. Cold air that tasted like salt whipped around them as wild as their racing hearts, as free as they would one day be. Harry could already see it.

“Hey.” Louis caught a glimpse of another Jeep arriving in the wilderness of a parking lot, unfamiliar but still bothersome. “We’re not alone anymore.”

Harry was instantly guarded and Louis could not think to blame him. He dropped his boy to the sand and encircled his slender hips with both protective arms, breathing like a racehorse when he glances over his shoulder. The sight of seven teenage girls in bikinis did little to ease his worry, not anymore.

“Harry.” Louis cupped one cheek of the most mesmerizing face anyone has ever seen. His gaze is earnest, better at hiding his unbidden trembles. “You’re shaking, love.”

Frighteningly brilliant green eyes snap shut momentarily so the mind behind them can recuperate. Harry squeezes Louis’ waist and kisses the boy’s wrist, his nerves being iced into a calm. Danger was too close before, much too exposed where Louis was concerned. Harry will cut off a limb before he lets something so vile get in contact with his love again.

“Come on.” Louis took Harry’s other hand and led him away from the rock, sweeping low to grab his shoes. Being out here in the open was not a good idea so soon after a grave disaster.

Harry was well lost to his overbearing side by the time they reached the Bentley. He fumbled in buckling Louis’ seatbelt until the boy batted him away and kissed him.

“Relax.” He took Harry’s face in his hands while the latter was kneeling, uniting their lips briefly and then more firmly again. Green met blue over a short distance and Harry let Louis take his hands, uselessly massage his palms and kiss his cheek. Louis’ fingers threaded through Harry’s dry, misbehaving curls and closed his eyes. “We’re okay, yeah? We’ll stop by the diner and have your mountain of waffles, some of that chocolate sundae for me.”

Harry is shaking his head so fervently that Louis can only sigh and think of an alternate way to spend their afternoon.

“We can just go to mine.” He suggests softly, kissing the top of Harry’s head. “Been meaning to watch _Jeepers Creepers_ again but I don’t think I can do it without you.”

This, Harry agrees to and he breaks one too many speed limits getting them from the freeway to the highway then into the familiar suburb where Louis lives. Louis’ parents are not home due to a fateful business trip of his father that made him have an epiphany about a decent anniversary getaway. Two weeks they’d be gone and Harry is staying over for the entire duration.

Louis orders pizza and a brownie platter from a nearby restaurant that delivers, while Harry finds clothes for after they shower. It has been made clear that Louis is joining him in that shower because he cannot take a risk like the last time. His boyfriend’s mind was so muddled and ridden to exhaustion with cause for concern, that he had rubbed himself raw enough to need a doctor’s appointment.

“Hi there, stranger.” Louis held back the wet curls that hid Harry’s flushed visage. He had the spray of water at his back and needed to rise on his tiptoes to kiss his companion’s nose. “How you doing?”

Harry smiles and it reaches his haunted eyes only a little. Progress. It wasn’t good when he got like this but it was far worse when he was without Louis, sans a pillar or embodiment of strength to love and protect. Louis is convinced that Harry has the heart of a warrior, devoted and enticing. He needed to have someone, something to protect always or it got the worse of him and rattled his weakness like it meant nothing.

A warrior never fails the one he treasures, and it absolutely broke Harry months ago when he almost did.

“I love you.” Louis tilted his head back under the shower’s water dispersal. “Just by the way, tough guy.”

Something like a grin was pressed against Louis’ throat while a hand crept up his back to capture his nape. Harry nibbled on his wet skin and forgot slowly but painlessly about his burdens, if only for this short space of time. He was going to wash Louis’ hair with the boy’s signature lavender shampoo when another more sultry thought occurred to him.

“Oye.” Louis squirmed when his behind was caught in possessive hands, kneaded with a vigour and a pair of lips crashed into his.

Their intimacy ranged remarkably from every hand-holding experience to the most private affairs behind a locked door and with their naked bodies surrendering to each other.

In less than a minute, Harry had Louis pinned right where he needed him and began his dire attempts at getting Louis to submit. His boy was a tease and often made Harry earn any chance he had of taking him. He growled and slipped his hands lower on Louis’ body, prompting him to turn around with little nudges.

“Do I get something in return?” Louis giggled when he was spanked harmlessly for his sass, facing the wall so he can taunt Harry further.

Harry’s chest was in a permanent rumble when he got into his boy’s space, spreading those delicious thighs so his hand could go to work between them. He sucked a red, angry mark into Louis’ neck and his fingers found the puckered entrance to his lover’s divine body. It was magical when he got his body sheathed in Louis’ and he could work in and out with slow, precise thrusts that made him whine. That wasn’t what he wanted now though.

Louis’ voice was hoarse and his back was punishing him when Harry had him spread out against the wall, buried deep and carelessly as he pivoted his hips. The stretch of Harry’s girth was no longer painful but much more pleasuring, and Louis was screaming broken pleas while he was fucked barbarically. Everything about Harry is otherwise gentle, caring but not when he had Louis under him and got to pound into the body he claimed.

There were red scratches down Harry’s back and across his shoulders where Louis dug his nails in. A more muscular and hostile form shielded Louis from plain sight, moving in fluid pumps between the legs hooked over Harry’s hips. Lips connected in a fury and Harry swallowed Louis’ whimpers like he was drugging himself.

Harry took Louis’ lower lip between his teeth and increased his pace when his lover’s body started to clench, the sweetest moans spilling from his lips. He took Louis’ fingers between his own and found his release after Louis surrendered to his.

When the food arrived, Harry had only his boxers on and went downstairs to receive it while Louis made the bed as comfortable as can be for their movie night. He clapped to himself when Harry returned and his tummy growled audibly, taking his offered wine glass brimming with orange juice only after the server volunteered a kiss.

“I’m comfortable.” Louis stopped Harry from emanating anymore stress and squeezed the knee barricading him in on the left. His breath hitched from a sudden peck planted on his shoulder. “You okay back there?”

Harry rarely cared for movies and they both knew he was just going to occupy himself with doodling with his finger on some part of Louis’ body.

“Hey.” While teenagers were terrorized on the screen, Louis rotated his perch and shifted onto Harry’s thigh, demanding the latter’s undivided attention. He even stopped Harry from drawing on his hip. “We forgot about prom.”

Their senior prom is scheduled for a month from the present and neither seemed to think it important enough to speak more than once about. Harry looked unimpressed when the flyers went up and was outright insulted when three people took the liberty of asking him to accompany them. Louis just took to giggling at each encounter when related to him via Harry’s hand gestures.

“You gonna ask me?” Louis was nonplussed by Harry’s smug little smirk that overruled the features of his visage when his lover drew him closer. Arm closed around him and Louis got no response besides a silent chuckle. “No?”

Harry signed to communicate for the first time since they left for school this morning. _“I shouldn’t have to ask you.”_

“That’s so mean.” Louis swatted Harry’s bicep and tried not to swoon at how fit his boyfriend was. It was a regular struggle. “I expect a grand invitation now, Mister.”

 _“I will.”_ Harry paused to kiss his boy when his pouted lips proved to be too guilt inducing. _“What are the stakes?”_

Louis took his position astride Harry’s lap and laughed when his feet were captured, socks ripped off them so that he could be attacked with the faintest tickles at the sole. “If you ask me publicly with a poster and a pink shirt, we will move into our own place next year off campus.”

_“Were we not going to do that already?”_

“We were going to be on campus with my parents fitting the bills.” Louis admits, crossing his legs around Harry and pulling the blankets over them. “This time, it will be just us.”

Harry had been given place for engineering at the same university that Louis got placed for medicine. It took more than mere convincing on Louis’ part to steer Harry away from working full-time at Franky’s garage, watering it down to part-time so it did not bother their studies. They were going to sell Harry’s old Ford and Bentley – both excellent repair jobs – so they could afford a flat as well as have investments to fall back on. Their scholarships took care of any student necessities and Louis would receive a monthly allowance from his parents instead of getting his own job.

“Your team’s going to the championships tomorrow.” Louis loved watching Harry play rugby. It was evident in the way he handled himself on the field that the sport was a passion of his, and while he could not make captain Harry is still the best player on the school team. “Excited?”

 _“A four hour drive out of town?”_ Harry would have forfeited any position if the coach did not make an exception for him so Louis could be with him. He isn’t going anywhere without his boy. _“We may live out this terrible movie.”_

*    *    *    *    *

“Are you all packed, dear?” Louis’ mother was on the phone, wanting to check up on him before they leave.

“It’s only a day, mom. We’ll be back tonight.” He answered, tossing Harry a clean pair of his sweats to out into the duffel they’re carrying.

“How’s Harry? Excited?”

Louis glanced at his brooding better half with his entirely unbuttoned shirt that resembles a tablecloth and no pants. “Oh yeah. He’s planning to win the game single-handedly.”

Harry glanced up at that and scowled. He was a modest man in all his attributes except maybe all affections regarding Louis – he was happy then to do what needed to be done in order to lay his claim loud and clear.

“We’ve seen him play, dear. There’s no doubt about that.” His mother supportively remarks before her rushed farewells and hanging up.

They rush out the door when Harry starts ushering Louis ahead of him, the latter holding two pieces of toast that’s supposed to be their hurried breakfast. Louis has to feed his boyfriend on the road while the latter drives like he wants his licence suspended, just so they can arrive at the same time as the bus that will carry them on their trip. Harry’s shirt is still not buttoned and Louis does not appreciate the eyeful that everyone else gets so he does up the front of the hideous red shirt when Harry’s hearing the coach shout out their plans.

The team meets in the cafeteria for breakfast – an unexpected gift – but Harry does not sit with them. He was encouraged by Louis once to get to know his teammates but they were all obnoxious and too stereotypically pig-headed for him to want to spend time with them. That changed three weeks ago when Niall’s crush at the time, Liam, signed up and earned his way to team captain. He and Harry were friends and the duo that gave the school rugby team their ruthless reputation.

Liam is no longer just Niall’s crush but his boyfriend and while Louis offered the team nothing on this trip, Niall is a steady helper on the side-lines. This allowed for Niall to join the travelling party on their quest for victory on foreign ground.

“Why do you look like you had less than no sleep?” Louis asked Niall when they sat down with trays, the blond seemingly fallen asleep on Liam’s shoulder.

“He slept fine.” Liam replied monotonously. He had that trait of never raising his voice or changing his tone to suit his moods. Louis almost pegged him for robotic in the earliest stages of their friendship, but was proven wrong when Liam turned out to only display emotion when he was raving mad. “Eight hours.”

“You counted?” Louis pulled the tomato out of his cheese sandwich for that was more Harry’s taste, and received the pickles from Harry’s chicken baguette simultaneously.

“Yes.” Niall awoke in time for the coach to stroll in, blowing his whistle as a reminder that they had fifteen minutes left. “How are your folks, Lou?”

“Fine.” He responded casually, silently arguing with Harry about not wanting to eat the olives in his salad. Tomatoes were a reasonable sacrifice but Harry rarely allowed Louis to forego so much from his meal. “They sound reluctant to come back.”

“They know Harry’s staying over?” Niall drank his coffee and finished his sandwich.

Louis hummed, surrendering to his boyfriend’s slitted gaze and eating his olives. “They’re happy I’m not alone in the house.”

Harry’s hand finds Louis’ knee and applies light pressure, as if only grounding him. He heard that Louis’ parents were going out of town and lugged as much clean clothes over to the house within the hour, announcing himself by his dramatic appearance. There was too much of a risk involved, especially after their shared horror that Louis’ parents knew nothing of.

Niall was setting the stray hair strands on Liam’s easily styled cut with no objections from his subject. Liam rarely complained when it came to Niall. “You know the team is celebrating when we get back.”

“Win or lose?” Louis asked.

“You know the boys never go in with the thought of losing, Lou.” Niall answers with an eye-roll. The team has done extremely well so far but arrogance will cost them.

Louis sees Harry watching him, unhindered and unbothered by anything. He blushes Harry’s favourite light pink shade and hides his face impulsively for although their relationship has been solid for over ten months, Harry never ceased his staring that brought them together initially. Rather than allowing Louis to turn away, Harry captures the side of his neck and brushes the boy’s perfectly arched cheekbone with his thumb. He looks right into those crystalline blue orbs that he could drown in willingly any day, before leaning in for his kiss.

It was just like all their other kisses but also entirely different because it is in the present, whilst the others resided in past or future. Harry’s lips were chapped and Louis’ were fatally soft, moist because he’s always licking them. A light and chaste union of their lips has Louis’ cheeks heated and a smile gracing his features; it was no surprise to both lovers. Any outsider, who misinterpreted passion for something that required an isolated room and obscene possibilities, would doubt the essence of their love.

“Hey, H.” Niall, ever the entrepreneur, extracted a handful of questionable magazine-like booklets. “How many favours do you owe me?”

Harry’s expression of explicit boredom met Niall’s determination head-on. He raised his eyebrow for the blond to go on with his proposition.

Louis picked up one from the stack and would fight a difficult battle to mask his laughter. “What on earth, Ni?”

“Calendars, yes.” Niall was not deterred and uncapped a Sharpie for Harry. “Sign please.”

“What’s all this about?” Louis flipped through one and wanted to throw it over his head immediately. “Where did you get the photographs for this?”

“Coach.” The calendars were thirteen pages long and had photos of individual players or the whole school rugby team at each month. Louis does not recall the coach mentioning the production of calendars when the team photos were taken last month.

Harry doesn’t bother beyond a shrug and signs all seven of the calendars, each time across the background of his own photo. It didn’t look as if he acknowledged the mirroring image at all but Louis remembers the day they had it done on the school grounds and Harry was as out of his element as he could get. His boyfriend went last and paced the field’s edge for ten minutes before breaking out into a jog that covered the span of it, corner for corner. Stress had that effect on Harry sometimes.

“Are you going to auction them or something?” Louis asks, studying Harry’s hurried script that reads as nothing besides his initials.

“Obviously, Lou.” Niall is far more updated on the publicity and support that surrounds the team, astounding as it may be, and often found ways to pocket extra cash through it. The team’s fans included a fair share of females at the school they’re visiting that will pay for these limited editions.

The coach whistles their final warning and Harry shovels the last of his breakfast into his mouth before standing, clasping Louis’ hand firmly.

“You look like a greedy squirrel.” His boy chastises, wiping crumbs off Harry’s cheeks and punishing him with a kiss that he can’t return at the moment. “Try chewing, H.”

After they’re all signed in and climbed aboard the unmistakeably sponsored bus, their little party find the most suitable seats towards the back but spaced sufficiently away from the louder crowd. Louis takes the window seat and he knows it was offered to him so Harry is between him and anyone who passes by. The pair of seats in front of them is vacant while Niall and Liam occupy the set at their backs.

An hour into their drive and Louis’ mind is running in circles from boredom. He thanks whatever merciful deity had the grace to grant him his Harry so in times like this, he had someone to bother.

“Why so serious?” With his legs crossed, Louis had only prompted Harry to circle his thigh with his hand, protective and wary as always.

Harry’s gaze flickered to his peripheral where he smirked with ease. He squeezed Louis’ thigh and rubbed his thumb back then forth, succumbing to boredom himself. In a heartbeat Harry had Louis biting his tongue to keep from yelping, the latter’s new seat being one on Harry’s lap. It has grown to become his throne, the place he belonged most. The broader of the two kicked his feet up and braced his back against the window, arms forming belts around Louis’ middle.

“At least these are sunflowers.” Louis said about the endless fields laid out around them in supreme appeal. “If they were corn we should be worried.”

A silent chuckle was hidden in Louis’ neck, deft fingers aimlessly brushing his sides. Louis could see nothing but brilliant yellow flowers for miles ahead and one double-laned road on which they rode. It was uncannily related to their last night’s movie. He found comfort in Harry’s scent of Old Spice and laundry detergent, choosing to instead bide his time with fending off Harry’s wayward hands. There was never a chance of anything being initiated in such a space where anyone could observe them – Harry is too private for that – but entertainment was needed.

Louis sighed when the other components of the most successful sports team recognized by their school’s history books, began to rumble with the familiar chants and shouts that fuelled team spirit. It would have been nothing but bothersome if Louis had anything else to focus on, but just this once he can smile and silently partake in their enthusiasm.

“I’m proud of you, you know.” Louis reminds his boyfriend whilst tilting his head back so he can gauge the full extent of Harry’s reaction. A fist was lightly encasing Louis’ throat so that eye contact was easily accomplished. “Harry ‘Spartan’ Styles should be getting more recognition from his boyfriend, I say.”

Harry looks intently down at his bemused lover with a little amused curl to his lips, saying without words that what Louis does for him is more than what he deserves. Staying up almost all night before major games to keep Harry level-headed, endless gym sessions at the downtown sports centre when Louis made certain to be an active distraction for Harry, the winding down after an adrenaline-high. How could Harry ever take those acts of support for granted?

With a brief shake of his head, Harry leaned down and made certain that his lips landed squarely on Louis’ lips. He follows it up with three modest pecks.

“I made a poster.” Louis mumbles drunkenly against Harry’s lips; he grins bashfully and Harry nips the bottom one. “Purple cardboard and sparkly paint. Niall helped.”

A sound like a scoff crawls out of Harry’s throat just as the harshest blow knocks into them from the front of the bus. Louis’ comfort is hurled aside when he’s knocked into the back of the forward seat, his nose taking the brunt of the force but the rest of his body saved by Harry straining every muscle in him to shield the boy. Stress on the monster vehicle’s brakes initiates an awful screech as the tyres drag against the road to a halt.

Groans ensue from every student who experienced an injury-inducing impact gets to their feet or at least back onto their seats. Harry is quick to sit up and turn Louis around so he can inspect the boy for any forms of hurt.

“I’m fine.” Despite this reassurance, Louis’ nose is running red like a tap. “Oh- _damn.”_

Harry feels a blossoming ache at the base of his neck that he ignores in favour of getting out a handkerchief to stop the steady flow of blood. There’s a dreadful heaviness like betrayal in his chest that tightens into a poisonous flame somewhere amidst the strings of his heart. He let Louis get hurt again. He’s failed his beautiful boy again.

Louis handles pain like Braveheart and never lets Harry, or anyone, know that he’s suffering in the slightest. He does whimper to himself when the pressure of Harry’s handkerchief only encourages a dull throb to mature into a vicious sting. The skin of his nose and just under his eyes are swelling, turning the lightest shade of blue. Across the nasal bridge lay a thin slit of split skin that births two hideous gashes.

“Broken?” Louis asks in his tone of voice that conceals his vivid pain.

Harry shakes his head but he’s only partially certain and removes the cloth so he can study the wound. The bleeding stopped and the bruising seems to stop at minor swelling, which is very soothing to the thumping disaster that Harry’s mind has become. Shouts come from the front of the bus where teachers and the driver get off to inspect any damage but Louis has taken up all of Harry’s concentration.

Someone, Liam, has retrieved the first-aid kit that he cleans of his necessary items before tossing it to Harry. Gauze and medical tape is taken out along with disinfectant. He feels Louis’ hands fist his blood stained shirt and kisses the boy’s forehead apologetically, hurrying to complete this haphazard treatment. Soon enough there is a neatly trimmed and placed bandage across Louis’ nose, little cotton balls blocking his nostrils should the bleeding recommence.

Louis’ voice is clogged and husky from his affronted sinus passages when he checks on Harry in return, noting some deep bruising on his boyfriend’s shoulders and neck. He relaxes only after they’re both certain that nothing has been left to chance.

“I’m alright.” Louis sits astride Harry’s lap and holds his rudely perfect features cupped in his palms. Had his hands been any lower and it would have been child’s play to feel Harry’s thudding heart. “Not your fault, H. You took care of me.”

Harry’s smile was twitchy and he fought to keep his eyes on one thing at a time, his paranoia thrust into hyper-drive. Any remaining threats must be guarded against. He holds Louis’ dainty wrists prisoner in the ball of his fists and kisses his boy from forehead to chin, missing his button nose and permanently pouted lips. Those perfect hands that were smaller than Harry’s reached out to grab the wintergreen ointment but were stopped momentarily so they could be laden with light kisses.

“Okay in there?” Louis got his own back and scooped some of the ointment onto his fingers, motioning for Harry to strip off his shirt. “Harry, love?”

Reluctantly the plaid top was unbuttoned and removed so that Louis could smooth the treatment cream onto Harry’s shoulders, his slightly hunched back. Louis quickly pulls the shirt back on for Harry, buttons it and throws his arms around his boyfriend in a sudden squeeze. He breathes shakily and ignores his own pain for soothing Harry’s undoubtedly sparked unease. Fingers carded through Harry’s curls and he felt the tightening of the strong arms closing him in.

“We’re okay.” Louis whispers to them both, his core rocked but slowly settling. “I love you.”

Harry’s lips dragged across Louis’ nape as he mouthed his response, the three words that left them both dreamy. He looked up when the coach back in with his assistant, red in the face from being out under the blazing sun.

“Get comfortable, kids. We’re going to wait for the mechanic.” Their flustered and frustrated sports leader instructs. “Anyone need the kit?”

Some did and they made their way to the stash of medical supplies at the front of the bus while others opened up the windows for a cross-wind. The jocks at the back were finally silent and their cheerleader counterparts were fussing relentlessly about scrapes or faux sprains. Louis settled back into Harry’s familiar warmth and closed his eyes, ignoring the blistering heat that is no longer fought off by the air conditioner.

“Shh.” Harry was rubbing his back and hiding him from common sight. The shaking on the more intimidating male’s frame had stopped and he had come to peace with the safety they’re surrounded temporarily by.

*    *    *    *    *

Two days later, after Harry’s team reaped their victory in the form of a glorious championship trophy and what seemed like an endless party, Louis was dropping by Franky’s on his way home. Harry worked this Saturday while Louis joined Niall in a visit to the bank to deposit his earnings from the shameless calendar ordeal. He made a good buck on it and felt no remorse in trying to convince Louis to sell his poster as well. Harry would not allow it and now the glittery violet board was plastered tastefully to Louis’ wall. **‘MY SPARTAN, MY STYLES’** now stared back at Louis whenever he exited the bathroom.

Louis walked to the garage after leaving Niall to Liam’s company and bought a fruity popsicle to colour his tongue blue with. He felt the cold settle into the muscle and let his mind drift to when Harry told him that he only fancied popsicles from Louis’ mouth.

The owner of this town’s biggest garage was there bent under the bonnet of a Corolla, and waved distractedly at Louis. “Styles, your boy’s here!”

Somewhere deeper in their stations a spanner dropped and Harry was striding out of the shadows to approach Louis, initially with a speculative glimmer in the emerald of his eye before a thousand watt grin took over his features. It wouldn’t be the first time that a lying teenager tried to see him by lying to his co-workers.

“Hi.” Louis beamed at the lovely working man that’s draped in stained overalls and donning greasy hair tied back in a bun.

Harry bent at his knees and scooped Louis up in a single swift motion, silencing all protests with a firm smooch planted on his boy’s grape tasting lips. He carries a giggling Louis over to his post and sets him down on the hood of his current project: a beat-up Jeep Cherokee. They’re both glad to have no traces of their injuries left except Louis’ slight swelling as Harry feared he’d lose his head if he had to keep seeing how he messed up.

“You promised we could go ice-skating tonight.” Louis reminds him, setting Harry’s trusty tool box on his lap to resume the occupation of equipment handler. It’s quite an esteemed position in his eyes.

He gets an acquiescing nod from his boyfriend who is returning to the task beneath the Jeep’s exquisite exterior. Soft jazz music plays somewhere through invisible speakers that no one’s ever been able to locate and could not turn off before they learned to appreciate it. They stayed in silence for a while so Harry could complete his work before getting in the driver’s seat to hear the healthy roar of a repaired engine.

“Heading out, Harry. Lou.” The only other mechanic, Manuel, at the workshop informs them with a tip of his pirate hat and departs with an odd skip in his step.

“What’s up with him?” Louis asks after he swings back around from observing Manuel’s exit. “The last time I tried to talk to him, he gave me the scariest look I’ve ever seen.”

Harry meets Louis’ eye with a secretive chuckle that he makes a show of not hiding.

“What?” Louis squints at his boyfriend, applying a year’s worth of experience to read his smug expression. “No.”

He got a marvellous smile in return, void of any reservations.

“Who’s he been seeing?” Louis hops off the car’s front and asks in earnest, gripping Harry’s arm in his plea for information. Manuel has been in a foul mood for weeks after making Louis’ name collection of the only gentlemen left. He’s as sweet as can be most of the time. “Haz, please.”

Harry shakes his head and performs the act of zipping his lips shut. He doesn’t budge when Louis squeezes his forearm and laughs silently when he’s surprised by the petite weight of Louis riding piggyback. His boy is nothing if not persistent.

“There’s no way he told you not to tell me.” Louis accuses, feigning hurt when all Harry responds with is a cheeky kiss to his puckered lips. “He’s my friend too.”

No secrets are elicited from Harry for the entire half an hour that Louis tries gaining any. Franky bids them adieu when the sun’s just beginning to set and Harry gets his belongings from his quaint locker in the backroom. Louis waits outside watching the horizon explode into blinding streaks of yellow and red, melding to make orange. It’s more than extraordinary and still does not make it to out-compete the fondness Louis has for Harry when his eyes have the opportunity to choose.

They go ice-skating when the sky is made up of navy silk with faint glimmers of pure silver, jewels that beat earthly mineral. Louis is one for the railing and rigid knees while Harry seemed to float on the ice like he’s made to complement it. At one point when Harry tried bringing Louis away from the safety of the wall, the latter threatened to break up with him if he dare went through with it. Harry laughed to himself and kissed the plump rosiness of Louis’ flushed cheeks.

A little girl wanted to slide across the ice and Harry helped her execute it perfectly before retiring to Louis’ post by the bench. His lover had bought a cone of caramel ice cream and braced himself for Harry’s disapproval when the individual found him.

“I know, I know.” Louis offered some of his treat up as a bribe and although Harry accepted, it did nothing to dissuade his stunning companion from making a hero out of him. “I’ll go back in when I’m feeling brave again.”

Harry leaned in close to nuzzle the sensitive spot below Louis’ chin, manipulating his slight weakness in quiet encouragement. He would never call his breath-taking boy anything but courageous. How could he when Louis the essential matter of his strength, his undeniable inconquerability came from Louis’ blue eyes and delicate caresses. The Spartan bowed to his lover.

They’d finished up their fun at the recently established ice rink and Louis had a large wet patch at the back of his jeans after an unfortunate tumble on the harsh ground. Rather than allowing Harry to inspect his condition for any mistaken injuries, Louis tied an over-sized sweater around his waist and hid the embarrassing dampness even if the night offered enough coverage.

“H, stop it.” Louis has – for the third time – batted Harry’s evasive hands from trying to lift the sweater, and caught both those large paws with his own to keep supervised. “I’m fine. Scout’s honour.”

Harry gave Louis an insulting eye-roll and poorly amused glanced, saying for him that Louis isn’t a Boy Scout and the oath doesn’t apply. No argument followed for the couple stopped under the shelter of their second favourite Chinese take-out joint for dinner, distracting them momentarily. A group of youngsters from the town college come in after them, crowding the queue space and annoying Louis’ endless thoughts with their lack of volume control.

These were some of the worst moments in Harry’s life, when he could not use a voice of his own to steer Louis’ attention away from the rowdiness of social situations. He could only bring his face down to fit snugly in the curve of the boy’s neck, rub his sides or kiss odd planes of skin. All this were mercies in themselves for there could have been the tragedy in which he could do any of them, should whoever wrote his fate chose to cripple him further. There was nothing but gratitude for what he had but there also resided a mute longing somewhere in the alcove of his chest, yearning for the opportunity to let Louis hear his love voiced. His boy deserved that much from him even if he knew Louis never thought of things that way.

“Your eyes make your thoughts very apparent to me.” Louis brushed some of the finest curls back behind Harry’s reddening ear, smiling so crow’s feet sprouted at his eyes when he noted the reservation presented to him. “You know I love you and if you didn’t then I just said it out loud in a take-away so I’m not lying.”

During their stroll back to Louis’ home, food and an unexpected pretzel in hand, Harry pulls them to a sudden stop well before his street. Louis doesn’t see why at first and makes to protest this obstruction when he’s drawn back so Harry’s shadow conceals his, rippling muscles on defined arms straining in obvious pain to keep Louis hidden.

“Ahoy there, Styles.” A hoarse, echoing voice that comes from the adjacent alley following a lean figure makes Louis gasp, blocking his identity in Harry’s back. “Don’t bother with hiding him. You know it’s a wasted effort.”

Harry tugged Louis closer to him from behind, feeling slim fingers slip through his and takes the offered anchoring. His rage is as much a beast as his determination is a champion, and his murderous glare blares out warnings to this foe.

The formidable silhouette regains its remarkably vampiric features and Louis need not look to know they send chills through him. A long, pallid face that houses two misleading grey eyes and a set of lips permanently in a grim streak. Although familiar, the sight and recognition of this horrid man was no happy occasion.

“I heard about your triumph at West High. Spartan, they call you. How apt.” Torment was always this one’s forte. “I do not come to cause harm to you or- Dear me, I’ve forsaken my manners. How are you, Louis?”

As recipient to this vague and heartless greeting, Louis chose only to keep to where he’s sheltered and contain his quaking to subtle shivers.

“Fine? Excellent.” Those estranged pale orbs return to Harry’s infuriated visage like a demon waiting to pounce, to tackle the one bit of goodness that could defeat it. “I bring you a gift.”

A box is set on the hood of an unknown GMC Terrain that is idle in a parking spot, and the slight area it occupies seems to become irrecoverable from the darkness that present holds. Their visitor backs away with a smug expression and eyes that do not waver from Harry’s form, his wrist swaying to signal a sickening friendly departure.

Harry snatches up the box and tosses it into the nearest bin without question.

_Edward._

That’s who the intruder was and he was not going to stop interfering in their lives by means of these small visits, as promised from brother to brother. Harry refused to speak about his family or his home and this was why, the desperate need to keep Louis safe by being out of the loop. Being the younger son of two children born from Henry Allen Styles IV was no small burden but the brunt of such inheritance, of certain duties fell directly to Edward.

Being the narcissistic and unkind man he was bred to be as the leader to what is probably the most powerful unmonitored underground crime syndicate, Edward knew blood and only when it was spilled. He sought out his runaway sibling shortly after their father’s passing and demanded an assurance that Harry would not be gallivanting about in an effort to drag the family name through the crimson mud.

A month ago Louis was taken from school grounds while Harry was finishing his rugby training. He felt unease seconds before the screams started and he’d bolted in the direction of the parking lot to find his boy, to save him. There was nothing but a cryptic note left behind directing him to a family plot in the cemetery where the most traumatising events in Louis’ life proceeded.

Two broken ribs, a dislocated ankle and a laceration that spanned the width of Louis’ hips from one curve to the opposite one. That was the violence done to his boy when Harry wasn’t present, making it only in time to stop the snapping of wrists by a heartless goon. It was assurance, Edward sneered, and that he stood behind all his threats and always delivered. Harry was to be allowed his current freedom if he never disregarded the Styles name enough to insult it and promised to visit their home manor once every year for Christmas.

Louis screamed at him not to fold, promised him that there’s nothing worth the misery Edward will put him through as time grew older and his hold got sterner. He spoke from other than the heart because if it had been him making the decision he’d agree in a heartbeat to save Harry. Harry is his whole world.

There is no worse feeling than having to stand immobile, struck by two men so he kneeled with a bloody stream decorating his face, blurring his vision. He had felt true fear then when Louis was captive so far away and without a voice to negotiate, to even _shout_ for his petrified lover to know that he won’t be abandoned. No soul will ever comprehend that slowing of time so every agonising minute was engraved with a scorching rod into one’s heart.

Edward tossed Louis to Harry and left after dropping a briefcase of unmarked bills at their feet. He was a proud man and demanded gratitude in the form of a promise that his gifts will be awarded their attention. Harry burned the briefcase and has done so with every present since.

*    *    *    *    *

“We’re okay.” Louis blinked away the rapidly flowing water and went with the rocking of his body under the shower’s stream. He was close to tears with the way his heart has numbed, form shaking miserably even in the bathroom steam. “We’re fine, yeah? Always are.”

Harry and he were still fully clothed and braced against the walls of the tub as they held onto each other for dear life. Water flowed and filled about their rattled bodies, trying but failing to subdue what aches had been rehashed from their most explicit nightmare. Louis hid his face against Harry’s chest where he felt safe and protected from anything perilous, breathing in gulps of air while he rubbed his saviour’s quivering arms.

“I love you.” Louis said to Harry’s wide blown black eyes, the green swallowed up by terror. He kissed parched lip and got a huff in response. “We’ll get through anything, H. All we need is you and me.”

Harry couldn’t agree more.

 


End file.
